


not a model au

by lucilleking



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, And he thinks Louis is a nuisance, Enemies to Lovers, Fashion Designer Harry, Harry is the head designer at Givenchy, Louis isn't a model, M/M, Model Louis, Until suddenly he is, probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-14 09:07:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8007352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucilleking/pseuds/lucilleking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis looks up just in time to see a tall man with a scowl on his face burst out of a door while muttering to himself. He doesn't know who this guy is or what he wants, but what he does know is that this guy is incredibly hot. He has gorgeous long hair, and his suit, while a bit wacky in colour and pattern, is impeccably tailored and fits the man perfectly. Louis is about to speak when Hot Guy snaps his head up and zeroes in straight on Louis.</p><p>"You! I've been looking all over for you! Where the bloody hell have you been?"</p><p>Louis stares at him blankly. Who was this guy? "Uh," he starts, before he is cut off by Hot Guy.</p><p>"Are you dumb? Do you not speak English?"</p><p>Louis stares at Hot Guy's thin lips. He doesn't know how to answer. He doesn't know how he should answer. Instead, he tears his gaze away from HG's lips to look at his eyes. He looks furious.</p><p>"Never mind. You need to come with me now. I can't have some hot-shot model who thinks he owns the place ruin my show. Just because you're pretty doesn't mean you call the shots."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!! So this is my first fic! As of right now, I don't have a title for this fic, so it's gonna go by "not a model au" for now. Hopefully I'll get a title for it eventually. If I finish writing this fic. Let's hope I do. Also I might need a beta in the future! And someone to help me britpick... so if you might be interested please contact me!!! you can always reach me on tumblr [here](lucilleking.tumblr.com).

When Louis wakes up at 2:53 in the morning, his first reaction is to gag. His room smells like sweat, day-old takeout, and some other underlying scent that he just can't think of. It's probably the dirty laundry strewn across the floor. Or maybe it's another goddamn rat who has found its way into the walls or ceiling and died. Whatever the smell is, Louis has had enough of it.

He carefully gets out of his bed and surveys the area. There is a person laying in his bed whose name he can't remember. Aiden? Ashley? He doesn't know, and he certainly doesn't care, either. All he wants to do is get out. He tiptoes over to his closet and gets his backpack out, being careful to not wake whoever is lying in his bed, and starts packing.

After several minutes of packing and internal debating, Louis is done. He had some basic essentials like his laptop, some clothes, and a toothbrush. He doesn't know where he is going or how long he is planning to be gone for. If he needs more things then he could just buy it when he gets to wherever he's going. He gathers all his stuff and heads to the door.

 _Yeah_ , Louis thinks to himself. _This is gonna be good_.

Just as he is about to walk out, he realises he should probably leave a note for the person sleeping in his bed. And probably a note for Niall, his flat mate, too, so he won't get too worried about where he's disappeared off to. Louis fishes around in his pockets for some paper, and finds an old Tesco receipt. Good enough for the person in his bed. He picked up the pen lying on his bedside table and wrote a quick note to the person laying there, politely telling them that they should fuck off the moment they wake up.

As he places the note next to them, he realises that they were the source of the disgusting underlying scent he smelled earlier. He takes a whiff of their hair, gags, and identifies the smell as rotten eggs. Why this person's hair smells like eggs he does not want to know. It was probably some strange beauty routine that he did not care to learn any more about.

After a last survey of his room and pocketing his phone, keys, and wallet, Louis walks into the kitchen and finds an actual piece of paper to write a note for Niall on. After jotting a quick "Gone. Don't know when I'll be back. Love you" and hanging the note on the fridge where he knew Niall would see it, he was off.

Louis walked down the street, more at a brisk pace than a leisurely one because it was three in the morning and quite a bit chilly out, to get to the nearest tube station. It was eerily quiet on his street, even for three in the morning. Usually the street cleaner would've been out at this time making a little noise and disturbing the peacefulness of the night. Louis didn't mind though. The quietness of it all helped calm his overreacting nerves.

When he finally reached the station, he caught the first train to Heathrow. There was quite a few more people here at the station than he encountered on his walk here, and he just blends into the background and wonders why everyone else is also up at 3:30 in the morning.

***

The ride to Heathrow is a blur. However, the walk to EasyJet's ticket counter is not. Louis is jittery with nerves. It's four in the morning, and he doesn’t have the slightest clue of where he wants to go.

"Hi," he says to the women behind the ticket counter.

She looks at him, uninterested. "How may I help you?"

"I want to buy a ticket.”

She sighs. "I presumed so. To where?"

"Wherever the next flight out is going."

"Okay. Passport and credit card, please.”

He rummages around in his backpack, fishes out his passport and credit card, and gives them to her. She types in a few things on her computer, and a few minutes later, Louis hears the ticket being printed. Even though he still doesn't know where he's going, his nerves are finally starting to change from nervousness to excitement.

"Here. Have a nice flight."

"Thanks, lady."

She nods in response, and Louis walks over to a bench and sits down to look at his ticket. His eyes widen and his heart begins to beat a little faster when he reads the name of his destination.

He is going to Ibiza.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh! Here's chapter two! I hope you all enjoy, and I apologize if there's any grammatical errors, but I wrote most of this chapter at two in the morning. It's just shy of 1.9k words, and I know, it's not long, but I promise the chapters will get longer in the future! Hope you all have had a lovely week, and I'll see you soon with the next chapter :)
> 
> (p.s. I know some of the events in this chapter are a bit unrealistic and they'd probably never happen in the real world, but. Just go with it lol)

Three days into Ibiza, Louis is bored. The people were new and the scenery was different from his usual rounds back in London, but the alcohol, partying, and sex all felt the same.

During his fourth night, Louis decides he has, yet again, had enough. He climbs out of random number seven's (he thinks this person's name started with a J) bed, grabs his backpack off the floor, and turns on his phone for the first time since landing in Ibiza to call an Uber.

His phone starts endlessly vibrating and making rapid chiming noises, and Louis quietly curses as he scrambled to turn the sound off so as to not wake the body in the bed. A snore confirms that he hadn't, but he didn't want to take any chances. He leaves the flat and stands on the not-so-quiet street. He can hear a party going on a few doors down, and as he leans against the wall of some building checking his 268 messages and 17 voicemails, a group of idiots walk by and catcalls him. Louis doesn't even bother looking up.

Most of the messages (and six of the voicemails) are from Niall, asking where he is. He replies to those first, sending a short but informative message letting Niall know where he is and that he is okay. The next few messages (and the remaining voicemails) are from his boss, Richard. Apparently he's been fired, but he could not care less. Being a fish monger was not something he wanted to do for the rest of his life. (He also may have hated Richard just a teeny-tiny bit. As long as teeny-tiny meant from Earth to the Sun 10,000 times. The bastard had promised him fair pay and generous time off when he started, but instead he barely got paid enough to get by, he worked six days a week, and Richard kept trying to set him up with his nieces. It was a hell hole, and he was glad to be rid of it.)

The rest of the messages were just random, from coupon codes to friends asking to chill to unknown numbers trying to hook up with him. Luckily, there was only one text from his mother, telling him to call her soon. He is thankful Niall hadn't mentioned his disappearance to her. He wouldn’t have lived to hear the end of it. Louis makes a mental note to send Niall a fruit basket for his kindness.

After finishing going through all his messages, he calls an Uber to take him to the airport. It comes fairly quickly, and the ride there is spent mostly staring out the window, looking and thinking about nothing.

***

This time at the airport, Louis has an idea of where he wants to go. So, instead of aimlessly walking up to Iberia's ticket counter and getting the first ticket out of the country, he walks up to Iberia’s ticket counter and buys a direct ticket to an actual destination.

He feels a little jittery going through security, and he can't calm down, not even when he is sitting at the gate waiting to board. There’s nothing special about where he’s going. He's been there several times with his family, friends, and even alone. But, here he is at the gate, being irrationally nervous about going to a place he's been countless times before.

A loud ding pulls Louis out of his thoughts. He must have zoned out for quite some time, because when he turns to look at his gate, there are only two people queueing to board the plane. He jumps out of his seat and speed walks over to the boarding area, narrowly avoiding tripping over a sleeping person, just as one of the flight attendants announces the final boarding call over the PA.

“Last call for flight RA-2401 to Paris, last call. Any remaining passengers, please make your way to gate C13 for boarding.”

Louis reaches the boarding area just as the person in front of him in line leaves to go board the plane. He hands the tired-looking flight attendant his ticket, giving her a tight smile and a quiet ‘thank you’ when she hands back his boarding pass and says ‘enjoy your flight.’

He walks through the passenger boarding bridge to get to the plane, manages to bump into at _least_ six people before he gets to his seat, and collapses into said seat the moment he reaches it.

Louis is absolutely _knackered_. It’s just past seven in the morning, he’s been up since around four, and he’s guessing he only got two or three hours of sleep that after partying and going home with whomever he went home with.

He closes his eyes and fully relaxes his body, and he sleeps the full two hours it takes to fly from Ibiza to Paris.

***

Somehow, Paris is even lovelier than Louis thought it would be. It's the beginning of March, the weather is just the right blend of hot and cold, and Louis is  _happy_ , happier than he's been for months. But he can't explain why.

He's stopped partying every night. He's in Paris, for Christ's sake; he's not meant to go out and club every night and fall asleep in some stranger's bed. He's meant to wander the old streets, be a Parisian like his grandmothers family. His French may be a little rusty, but here, in Paris, he feels grounded for the first time in probably years.

Louis thought the feeling of happiness might have stemmed from a break from his partying ways, but, he's been in Paris for almost three weeks and while he's only gone out twice, he still feels happy and refreshed.

Louis then thought it might've been because he's at home in the motherland. And while this thought may have been very plausible, he doesn't think it's right. He just can't pinpoint the feeling. It's like it's just the tiniest bit out of his reach, but no matter how hard he stretches, he can't reach it.

It's this feeling of unknown happiness that's driving him just a tiny bit insane, and Louis itches for a smoke as he's pushing through a crowd of people lining the street.

He gets a few glares from some overly dressed people as he tries to find an alleyway where he can have a smoke to relieve his tension.

After what seems like forever and an infinite amount of  _excusez-moi_ s, Louis finally reaches a break in the crowd and a small street between two buildings.

Louis fumbles around in his rucksack, pulls out a cigarette and a lighter, and relaxes against a wall as he takes his first drag.

Now  _this_  is what he's needed all day. Louis closes his eyes, leans back, and enjoys the bliss that comes with every single drag. He's almost gone into a trance when a loud bang snaps him back into reality.

Louis looks up just in time to see a tall man with a scowl on his face burst out of a door while muttering to himself. He doesn't know who this guy is or what he wants, but what he does know is that this guy is incredibly hot. He has gorgeous long hair, and his suit, while a bit wacky in colour and pattern, is impeccably tailored and fits the man perfectly. Louis is about to speak when Hot Guy snaps his head up and zeroes in straight on Louis.

"You! I've been looking all over for you! Where the bloody  _hell_  have you been?"

Louis stares at him blankly. Who was this guy? "Uh," he starts, before he is cut off by Hot Guy.

"Are you dumb? Do you not speak English?"

Louis stares at Hot Guy's thin lips. He doesn't know how to answer. He doesn't know how he should answer. Instead, he tears his gaze away from HG's lips to look at his eyes. He looks furious.

"Never mind.  _You_  need to come with me now. I can't have some hot-shot model who thinks he owns the place ruin my show. Just because you're pretty doesn't mean you call the shots."

"Where are we going?" Louis asks. Instead of answering, HG mutters under his breath something about 'idiotic models' and grabs Louis' arm and drags him towards the door.  _Model? What?_ He tries protesting, but as soon as he gets half of a word out, HG harshly shushes him instantly. In the end, Louis gives up and let's HG take the lead. He begins to get nervous and really hopes this guy isn't some serial killer, but, as soon as he has that thought, Louis walks into a room filled with people. Unless HG is going to make a very public sacrifice, he thinks he's safe. For now, at least.

HG stops in front of a woman who's tapping away on her phone, and Louis stumbles to a stop beside him. HG clears his throat, and the woman looks up and stares at HG.

"Where have _you_ been? I've been trying to reach you! There's still no sign of Jonatan anywhere, and—"

HG cuts her off by jerking his head in the direction of Louis. The woman shifts her eyes from HG to look at Louis, and she relaxes for a moment before going tense again.

"Oh thank  _heavens_. I'd ask you where you found him but we don't have time. Give him to me; I need to get him to makeup."

The woman begins walking, and when Louis doesn't follow, HG pushes him forward. "You heard Lisbeth. Go. And if you so much have a hair out of place when I see you the next time, I will end your career before it even takes off."

Louis is even more confused than he was two minutes ago, but Hot Guy is giving him a death glare, and Louis does not wish to die, at least not today. He turns around and jogs to catch up with Lisbeth. She glares at him but doesn't say anything, and when they finally get to makeup, she practically forces him into a chair. Immediately, three people are on him, two doing various things to his face, and one pulling out his hair.

"Listen. If you pull another stunt like this, you're finished. You just landed the biggest job in your career thus far and this is how you're going about it? Jonatan, I'm on my last nerve right now. Everything needs to be perfect, and I can't have you ruining anything for me, or for Harry for that matter. Do you understand?" Lisbeth says. Louis fights the urge to roll his eyes.

"Yes, I do. HG over there already gave me the rundown. And my name's not Jonatan, by the way. It's Louis."

"HG? Who—never mind. And Louis? Frankly I don't give a shit what your name is. Just don't mess up, or you'll have me to deal with. Or worse, Harry himself. You saw what he was like earlier. You piss him off, and you're digging your own grave. Just remember what I said. Don't do anything stupid."

Lisbeth turns to leave and Louis is left alone with the people milling about his face. He finally takes some time to try to take into account everything that has happened in the last five minutes, but he can't make any sense out of it.

What has he gotten himself into?

**Author's Note:**

> p.s. lol I wrote this part before louis and co. went to ibiza. what a coincidence


End file.
